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I 



THE 



CAPTURED SCOUT 



OF THE 



ARMY OF THE JAMES. 



% ^k£tc6 0f tfte 3Life of 
SERGEANT HENRY H. MANNING, 



OF THE TWENTY-FOURTH MASS. REGIMENT. 



BY 

CHAPLAIN H. CLAY TRUMBUL];^ " 

I Off AMERica 




S AND NOYES. 
1869. 



tjATHouc mn 

RELEASED 



E..S13 

,^,^Y OF KMERICS,, 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1868, by 

NICHOLS AND NOYES, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts 



, « 3 $ 



Cambridge: 
press of john wilson and son. 



TO THE SURVIYING MEMBERS 

OF THE 

SEinentp^Jourti} Eegiment fHassacJusctts Uols., 

THIS SKETCH OP THEIR COMEADE IS AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED, 

BY ONE WHO HOLDS IN EVER FRESH AND DELIGHTFUL 

REMEMBRANCE HIS THREE YEARS' EXPERIENCE 

AS THEIR BRIGADE COMPANION, 

AND 

HIS MINISTRY AS THEIR OCCASIONAL CHAPLAIN. 



NOTE. 



nr^HIS little sketch is the best, because 
the only, tribute to the memory of its 
subject that the writer, amid the pressure of 
varied duties, can find time to render. 

Prepared, in great part, for use in a 
memorial discourse, it has not been re- 
written, although extended by additions 
which perhaps mar the harmony of its first 
design. 

The fact that it was shaped to be spoken 
rather than to be read, — designed for the ear 
rather than for the eye, — will account, to 
those accustomed to public address, for some 
of its unsuitableness of style for the form in 
which it now appears. 

H. c. T. 



I 



CONTENTS. 



The Dead of the Army of the James 9 

Cost of the Slaveholders' War 10 

A Massachusetts Boy. — Foreshadowings of a noble 

Life 13 

The Soldier of Christ and Country 14 

A good Regiment. — A good Record 16 

Fighting and Praying 17 

James Island. — Hospital Supply of Rebel Shells . 19 

Charleston Siege-work. — Sharpshooting ... 20 

The Veterans. — Love for the old Flag 22 

Campaigns it in Virginia. — Volunteers as a Scout 24 

The Capture. — The Dungeon. — The Gallows . . 27 
Gloom of the Stockade and Jail. — Consecration 

Vow 29 

Escape and Recapture. — Torn by Blood-hounds . 31 

Andersonville Horrors 34 

In the Rebel Ranks.— Loyal still 35 



b CONTENTS. 

A Prisoner among Friends. — Good News for Home 37 

Again with his Regiment. — Merited Promotion . 38 

Home at last 39 

Telling his Storj. — Fulfilling his Vow .... 40 

Student-life at Andover. — Loving Service for Jesus 41 

Toil for Bread. — Unfailing Trust 43 

Failing Health. — A Grateful Heart 47 

In Hospital. — Gentle Ministry there 48 

Hope against Hope. — The Privilege of Christian 

Work . 5^ 

Only Waiting. — Rest at last 55 

Claims of the Dead on the Living 58 



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THE CAPTURED SCOUT 



OF THE 



ARMY OF THE JAMES. 




THE DEAD OF THE ARMY OF THE 

JAMES. 

N the evening of Wednesday, Sept. 2, 
1 868, some two hundred ex-officers of 
the " Army of the James " were assem- 
bled in the dining-hall of the St. James Hotel, 
Boston, in delightful re-union, as comrades of 
camp and campaigning. The writer of this little 
sketch was called on to say words in tribute to 
"The memory of the honored dead" of that 
army, and in consequence the tenderest recollec- 
tions were revived of those who fell in the lonsr 
years of war with rebellion. 

Hardly had the writer reached his home from 
that re-union, before word came to him of the 



lO The Captured Scout of 

death of another soldier of the Army of the 
James ; one whose varied and thriUing experi- 
ences, peculiar services to the Union cause, and 
noble Christian character entitled him to special 
mention, as a notew^orthy and satisfactory illus- 
tration of the bravery and vs^orth of the enlisted 
men of that army. While on his death-bed, this 
young soldier had sent particular request to one 
who, as an army chaplain in his brigade, had 
known something of his jDcrsonal character and 
history, to preach a commemorative discourse 
on the occasion of his decease. Thus called on 
again to pay just tribute to the memory of the 
dead of the Army of the James, the writer pre- 
pared this sketch as part of a sermon preached 
at Warwick, Mass., Sept. 13, 1868, and now 
gives it to the public at the request of those who, 
knowing something of the young soldier's his- 
tory, naturally desire to know more. 

COST OF THE SLAVEHOLDERS' WAR. 

Others than his immediate comrades have 
reasons for an interest in this young soldier, 
and should join in honoring his memory, and 



The Army of the yatnes. ii 

recalling at his death the record of his army 
life. Dying though he did among the green 
hills of Massachusetts, in these days of palmy 
peace, with parents and sisters ministering to 
his comfort, as he wasted slowly before their 
loving gaze, he was really one of the dead of 
the war, one of the starved of Andersonville. 
His vigorous constitution was broken down under 
the malarial damps of the sea-island death- ? ^^^ 
swamps, beneath the smiting sun-glare of the -^ /y^ 
Carolina sands, in the fatigues of dreary marches-!^ f ^ 
and anxious picket service, and amid the excite-'j 5 J ^m 
ments of battle and the crushing responsibilities Yv-rs j«^ 
of a mission of imminent peril within the lines \\'^. ^ 
of the enemy. His young life was really worn "^ 

away, not here at the North, but there at the 
South, in dragging months of imjDrisonment, in 
teeming hours of attempted escape, in rapid 
flight from the swift pursuers, and in the death- 
clutch with the fierce-fanged hounds in the swamp 
of despair ! 

And he was but one of many, — a representa- 
tive youth ; one out of thirteen thousand martyrs 
of Andersonville, — 



12 The Captured Scout of 

" The men who perished in swamp and fen, 
The slowly starved of the prison pen ; " — 

a solitary soldier among fully three hundred 
thousand who gave their lives for the nation's 
life, the sodden mounds of whose graves, like an 
ench'cling earthwork, make secure that nation's 
proud though dearly-bought position among the 
kingdoms of the world. Surely, there is little 
danger that the story of such a man will be told 
too widely, or his services be too highly esteemed ; 
small cause for fear, that, in the glad days of rest 
from war, there will be too vividly recalled those 
dark hours of the imperilled republic, when the 
bared right arms of two and a half millions of 
loyal and loving Union soldiers and sailors were 
essential to the preservation of a free and right- 
eous government ; and not only each blood-drop 
shed by those who stood or fell In battle for their 
country, but every heart-throb of their suffering 
or toil, and every tear of those who loved them, 
counted on the ransom of Liberty, and helped — 

"To make, for children yet to come, 
This land of their bequeathing, 
The imperial and the peerless home 
Of happiest beings breathing." 



The Army of the yaines. 13 

A MASSACHUSETTS BOY. — FORESHADOW- 
INGS OF A NOBLE LIFE. 

Henry Hatch Manning was born in Warwick, 
Mass., May 17, 1S44. He was ever a loving and 
dutiful son and brother. Just before his death, 
his mother remarked, " I cannot now recall any 
act of his disobedience." — " Our brightest earthly 
hopes will perish with him," added his sister. 
When young, his frequent wish was that he had 
been the eldest child, so as to lift burdens his 
sisters now must bear. At eight years old, he 
was at work for a neighbor, earning something 
beyond his board. While thus occupied, he was 
startled by the sudden death of his employer by 
accident. Hurrying to his home, he whispered 
the sad story to his mother, adding in almost the 
same breath, " But don't tell father. He 
wouldn't let me go back ; and what would 
Mrs. Holmes do without me?" Thus early he 
showed his independence of character, and his 
desire to live for others. 

Having the ordinary common-school advan- 
tages of a Massachusetts town, — such as are now, 



14 The Captured Scout of 

thank God ! extended into regions whither they 
won an entrance by blood, — Henry Manning im- 
proved them well. He had, moreover, faithful 
home instruction ; and the influence of a Christian 
mother's prayerful teachings followed him like 
a continual benediction. When about sixteen 
years old, while at work in another town from 
this, in a season of spiritual declension and cold- 
ness there, he was drawn by God's Spirit to make 
a full surrender of himself to Jesus. Evil in- 
fluences were around him just then : a sneering 
scoffer sought persistently to dissuade him from 
his new-formed purpose ; but God was with him, 
and he witnessed faithfully for Christ. Others 
followed his example, and a precious revival of 
God's Spirit-work followed in that long cold and 
formal community. 

THE SOLDIER OF CHRIST AND COUNTRY. 

It was soon after this that the echo of rebel 
guns against Fort Sumter aroused the New- 
England sons of Revolutionary patriots to the 
perils of the nationality their fathers had founded 
in blood. Henry Manning was not yet seven- 



The Army of the ya?nes, 15 

teen when the old flag was dishonored in 
Charleston Harbor ; but he was old enough to 
realize his country's need, and patriotic enough 
to stake every thing in her defence. His heart, 
warm with new love for the Saviour who died 
for him, throbbed to evidence its affection in 
some sacrifice for a cause approved of God. 
Delayed somewhat in his original plans, he en- 
listed, in the early autumn of 1S61, as a private 
in the Twenty-fourth Massachusetts Regiment, 
then forming near Boston, under the gallant and 
lamented Stevenson. 

After his enlistment, on the Sabbath before he 
left for the war, he stood up alone in his home- 
church, and made public profession of his new 
faith, and was there enrolled as a follower of 
Jesus ; his pastor preaching an appropriate ser- 
mon from the text, " Thou therefore endure hard- 
ness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ ; " which 
inspired counsel Manning certainly followed to 
the letter. Going out thence, clad in the "■ whole 
armor of God," Manning commenced his career 
as a soldier of the cross and his country, and 
thenceforward followed unflinchingly the flag of 



1 6 The Captzired Scout of 

his government and the blood-stained banner of 
Jesus. 

A GOOD REGIMENT. —A GOOD RECORD. 

The Twenty-fourth Massachusetts was a noble 
battalion, with a glorious record. . Through its 
four years of service, its well-earned reputation 
for good discipline, thorough drill, and stanch 
courage was unsurpassed ; and few regiments 
were its equals in hard fighting and practical 
efficiency. It would be enough for any man's 
soldierly reputation that he stood well in that 
regiment ; for he who won honor there deserved 
it everywhere. Hence the good name there 
secured by Henry Manning shows his per- 
sonal worth, and indicates the value of his 
services. Said Col. Ordway, at the close of 
Manning's term of service, '"' I have known his 
whole course since he has been a soldier. . . . 
He has alwa3^s been a brave, fiiithful, truthful, 
soldier, . . . honest and temperate, and in every 
way to be trusted." Maj. Edmands added, " I 
can cheerfully say, that I have never known a 
braver man in the regiment — and I was formerly 



The Army of the James. 17 

•his captain. He is, I believe, competent to fill 
any position where fidelity, integrity, and energy 
are required." Adjutant Stoddard- also testified, 
" [He] has always been especially noticed for the 
efficient manner in which he has performed his 
duties as a soldier : always ready for any daring 
undertaking, he has won for himself a j^l^ce in 
the hearts of the officers and his comrades of the 
Twenty-fourth Massachusetts ; and his name can 
never be obliterated from the pages of the his- 
tory of that regiment." 

' FIGHTING AND PRAYING. 

The Twenty-fourth went out in the Burnside 
expedition to the waters of North Carolina, and,' 
passing the perils of Hatteras " Swash," had an 
honorable and distinguished part, under brave 
and beloved Gen. John G. Foster, in the battles 
of Roanoke, Newbern, Little Washington, Rawl's 
Mills, Kinston, Whitehall, and Goldsboro'. 
In all this service. Manning gained in manliness 
and in the Christian graces, under the develop- 
ing influences of active army life. At Kinston 
he had a narrow escape from death. A bullet 

2 



1 8 The Captiu'cd Scout of 

struck the rail of a fence, behind which he was 
stationed as a sharpshooter, just in range of his 
head ; a knot turned it aside so that it barely 
passed his cheek, scattering the splinters in his 
eyes. 

In the spring and early sumn^er of 1863, the 
Twenty-fourth was in South Carolina, passing 
months on the sickly sea-islands, where it was said 
no white man had before lived at that season of 
the year. It was there that the writer of this 
sketch — then chaplain of another regiment in the 
same brigade — first met young Manning. His 
regiment then having no chaplain, he was one of 
an association of earnest Christians who had 
banded together to keep up religious meetings, 
and to do good as they had opportunity, among 
their fellows. Under their rustic canopy of 
boughs, beneath the grand old live oaks, and 
amid the stately palms of Seabrook Island, were 
enjoyed never-to-be-forgotten hours of prayer 
and praise. 



The Army of the ya?nes. 19 



JAMES ISLAND. — HOSPITAL SUPPLY OF 
REBEL SHELLS. 

From Seabrook to James Island, the Twenty- 
fourth moved, in July, 1863, under Gen. Terry, 
in co-operation with Gen. Gillmore's advance 
on Morris Island. Stricken down with sun- 
stroke there, his whole system prostrate under 
repeated attacks of fever and chills, fastened 
on him in the malarial regions of his recent ser- 
vice. Manning lay sick in the rude regimental 
hospital on the morning of July 16, when the 
enemy in force made a sudden attack on the 
Union lines. The shock of this battle was 
bravely met by Col. Shaw's Fifty-fourth Massa- 
chusetts regiment, then first in action. The hos- 
pital of the Twenty-fourth was found to be in the 
focus of the enemy's sharpest fire, and a hurried 
move was ordered down the island. As the 
poor invalids, with failing limbs, dragged their 
tedious way to the beach, shell after shell from 
the enemy's guns came shrieking past, or burst- 
ing among them. One such seemed to explode 
in Manning's very face, and he fell, with the half 



20 The Captured Scotit of 

conviction that it had killed him. As he rose 
again to his feet, another burst above him, and a 
ragged fragment of the hot iron tore down along 
his very side, laying open his clothing, and bruis- 
ing and lacerating his arm. But this injury prob- 
ably saved him from a severer ; for, checked by 
it a moment, he saw^ yet another shell explode 
directly before him, in the group he had fallen 
behind, killing and wounding not a few of that 
number. Sorry comfort, this, for sick soldiers ! 
Yet such was but an incident in the trying army 
service of our Union soldiers, in the prolonged 
war with rebellion. 

CHARLESTON SIEGE-WORK. — SHARP- 
SHOOTING. 

Immediately after the fight at James Island, 
the Twenty-fourth passed over to Morris Island, 
to have a part in the operations against Charles- 
ton from that point, commencing with that terrible 
assault on Fort Wagner in which Col. Shaw lost 
his life, — when Gen. Stevenson's brigade (includ- 
ing the Twenty-fourth) was in reserve, holding 
the front after the sad repulse. There, Manning 



The Army of the y attics. 21 

was again stricken down with sunstroke. Later, 
he was assigned to a company of sharpshooters in 
active serv^ice at the extreme front. He then had 
narrow escapes daily. On one occasion, as he 
and a comrade were aUernatinsf in rifle firinsf 
through a loop-hole, he had thrown himself 
down to rest under his rubber blanket, raised for 
a shade, when a bullet wounded his comrade in 
the face ; as he sprang up to aid him, a huge 
fragment of a mortar shell came tearing down 
through the air, and crushed the rubber blanket 
into the ground on the very spot where Manning 
had lain. Those were toilsome days on Morris 
Island, in the slow dragging siege ; men who 
were there will not soon forget its shifting sands, 
its blazing sunlight, its unintermitted fire of ar- 
tillery and musketry, its labors on traverse and 
parallel and sap, its frequent struggles of sortie 
or assault, and its atmosphere laden with disease : 

"How they marched together, sound or sick, 
Sank in the trench o'er the heavy spade ! 
How they charged on the guns at double-quick, 
Kept ranks for Death to choose and to pick, 
And lay on the beds no fair hands made ! " 



22 The Captured Scout of 

The Twenty-fourth sweltered and toiled with 
the other regiments, and won for itself a proud 
name by its brilliant charge on the rifle-pits in the 
very face of Wagner's guns. Thence it passed 
down the coast to Florida, and had a little rest in 
the quaint old Spanish city of St. Augustine. 

VETERAN RE-ENLISTMENTS. —LOVE FOR 
THE OLD FLAG. 

It was while the regiment was at St. Augus- 
tine that the call came from the government for 
the re-enlistment of its veteran soldiers. -It did 
not take Henry Manning much longer to make 
up his mind to a second enlistment than it did 
to the first. Had he been wanted for thirty or 
fifty years, instead of three or five, he would 
doubtless have been ready. God be praised that 
such boys lived, and were willing to die, in the 
hour of our country's need ! 

A little incident, occurring as the veterans of 
the Twenty-fourth left St. Augustine, on the fur- 
lough granted them as a consideration of re-enlist- 
ment, well illustrated the character and spirit of 
the soldiers of the war. They were gathered 



The Anny of the jfames. 23 

about the head of the dock, just ready to embark 
for the North, to leave soldler-hfe for a while 
behind them. Their thoughts were naturally of 
their release from service, and of the homes and 
loved ones to which they were hastening. Their 
comrades, wdio were to remain behind, had as- 
sembled to see them oft^ citizens of the old town 
were also there ; and all was glad-hearted cheer- 
. fulness. But unexpectedly to nearly all, as they 
stood thus together, the regimental colors were 
brought down from Fort Marion, to be taken 
with them to the North. As the dear old flag 
came in sight, — the bullet-rent and storm-worn 
colors which they had followed unflinchingly on 
the weary march and in the battle's crash, and 
for wdiich so many whom they loved had died, — 
instinctively, as by the word of command, every 
voice was hushed ; every farewell stayed ; and 
the soldier group parted and fell back on either 
hand, in reverent, affectionate regard for that 
symbol of all that they lived for then ; and, as 
through the open ranks the loved flag was borne 
down the pier to the steamer's deck, — 



24 TJie Captured Scout of 

*' Every foot was quiet, 
Every head was bare ; 
The soft trade-wind was lifting 
A hundred locks of hair; " 

while tearful eyes, in bronzed and manly faces 
bore precious testimony to the patriotism and 
generous devotion of those brave and tender- 
hearted soldiers. It was with such men and in 
that spirit that Henry Manning came home, in 
the spring of 1864, on his veteran furlough. 



CAMPAIGNS IT IN VIRGINIA.— VOLUNTEERS 

AS A SCOUT. 

Rejoining his regiment at Gloucester Point, 
Va., he was in Gen. Butler's expedition up the 
James River, towards Drewry's Bluff. Early in 
June, while the Army of the James was shut in 
the peninsula at Bermuda Hundred, Gen. Butler 
called for a volunteer scout — or quasi spy — to 
venture within the enemy's lines, and bring back 
information of his position and numbers. This 
call found a ready response in Manning's heart, 
and he volunteered for the undertaking. He 
found, as he said in writing to his home of his 



The Army of the yaines. 25 

determination, pecnliar satisfaction in the thought 
that he could now be of real service to the cause 
he loved. On the vedette-post, in the rifle-pit, 
or on the battle-line, he must stand or fall as one 
man, doing only what any lad might compass ; 
but in this new mission, all his nervous energy 
and cautious shrewdness and consecrated pur- 
pose would tell in an effort worthy of a soldier, 
wdiether that effort brought success or foilure. 
As expressive of his feelings, he enclosed to his 
friends the following lines he had clipped from 
some paper : — 

" We must forget all feelings save the one ; 
We must resign all passions save our purpose ; 
We must behold no object save Our Country, 
And only look on death as beautiful, 
So that the sacrifice ascend to heaven 
And draw down fi-eedom on her evermore." 

It requires not a little moral courage and true 
nerve to deliberatel}^ leave one's military lines in 
the face of the enemy, and pass over into the 
encircling forces of the foe. But Henry Man- 
ninof had counted the cost of his undertakine ; 
and late on the evening of June 7, 1864, he glided 
stealthily down the steep right bank of the river 



26 The Captured Scout of 

James, and along the water's edge in the shade 
of the heavy fohage, until he had passed the 
rebel picket in front of the famous "Hewlett 
Battery ; " then cautiously, and with bated 
bi'eath, he crept up the bank, and was within 
the enemy's intrenchments. Bayonets glistened, 
lights flashed, voices hummed about him : he 
was everywhere surrounded by sights and sounds 
of life, but he saw never a friendly look, heard 
never a friendly note. 

" He hears the rustling flag, 

And the armed sentry's tramp ; 
And the starlight and moonlight 
His silent wanderings lamp.. 

With slow tread and still tread, 

He scans the tented line; 
And he counts the battery guns 

By the gaunt and shadowy pine; 
And his slow tread and still tread 

Give no warning sound." 

Carefully making his observations, he passed 
from point to point up and down the intrench- 
ment lines, out to the Richmond pike, and be- 
yond to the Petersburg railroad. Concealing 
himself during the day, he scouted again on the 
second night. The defences of the enemy were 



The Army of the yafnes. 27 

noted, with the general disposition and number 
of tlie troops. Long after this he wrote, " [I 
was] in possession of such vahiable information 
that if I could only have got back with it, all the 
time, treasure, and blood which have been spent 
before Petersburg would have been spared. It 
could have been captured then with very small 
loss." But the attempt to regain the Union lines 
must be postponed until the following night, now 
that the dawn of the second day found him f:\r 
from his starting point ; so, seeking a secluded 
spot in the forest, near Chester Station, he con- 
cealed himself in its cover, and was soon fast 
asleep. 

THE CAPTURE.— THE DUNGEON.— THE 

GALLOWS. 

Awaking after a few hours, he heard the un- 
expected murmur of voices near him. A change 
of position had been made by some of the troops, 
and he was surrounded by the enemy. He 
hardly moved before he was' discovered. 



28 The Captured Scout of 

"A sharp clang, a steel clang! 

And terror in the sound ; 
For the sentry, falcon-ejed, 

In the camp a spy hath found : 
With a sharp clang, a steel clang, 

The patriot is bound." 

As a prisoner he was hurried before Brig.- 
Gen. Johnson, and by him sent forward to Gen. 
Beauregard's headquarters. The order to him 
from Gen. Butler, being found on his person, 
gave color to the cliarge that he was an author- 
ized spy ; and the first proposition was to hang 
him at once to a tree. Indeed, lie was told that 
his body should swing before sundown. But 
from some reason it was decided to try him by 
formal court-martial ; and he was sent to Peters- 
burg, where he was shut in a vile hole, under- 
neath the jail, " a low, filthy dungeon," as he 
described it, "dark, gloomy, and crawling with 
vermin." Those who have never been prison- 
ers of war under special charges, in the gloom of 
solitary confinement, with the staring gallows 
threatened, cannot fully realize the terribleness 
of Henry Manning's struggle of mind during that 
first night in the Petersburg dungeon. Earnestly 



I 



The Army of the James. 29 

did he call on God for strength, that, if he must 
yield his young life thus and then, he might be 
faithful even unto such a death. And God sus- 
tained him. 

GLOOM OF THE STOCKADE AND JAIL. 

"I will lift up mine eyes to the hills." 

Manning was sent to Georgia for trial. By 
mistake he was carried with a party to Ander- 
sonville, and turned into that place of yet untold 
horrors ; but thither, after seven days, he was 
tracked out by the authorities, and to them turned 
over by the brutal Capt. Wirz, who, at parting, 
shook his clenched fist in his face, and cursed 
him vehemently as " one of Butler's spies," dis- 
gracing that foul stockade by his temporary 
presence. Thence to Macon, he was shut in a 
felon's cell in the common jail. There the days 
dragged heavily, while he lacked air, exercise, 
fitting food, hope. He pined away until it 
seemed as if he could not live. " I heard it 
whispered around, many a time," he wrote after- 
wards, " ' Poor Manning ! What a pity that he 



30 



The Captured Scout of 



must die in such a place as this. Poor boy ! he's 
past recovery.' " It was while shut in there, an- 
ticipating trial, conviction, death, that Manning 
cast himself before the Lord, and cried mightily 
for help. On his knees, behind the grated door 
of his hope-barred cell, he pleaded that he might 
yet have life and again find liberty. Although 
in intense and agonized earnestness, he yet 
prayed in trustful submission to God's righteous 
will ; and, in no mere selfish love of ease and 
safety, solemnly he promised there that if his life 
was spared, it should be given wholly and heart- 
ily to the service of Jesus. In relating this inci- 
dent after his release, he added artlessly, "I told 
God that if my life vv^as spared, I should know 
He did it, for there was no other hope for me, 
then." That prayer and that vow seemed to be 
favorably heard of God. An alarm from an an- 
ticipated attack startled the authorities at Macon ; 
the provost-marshal of the post was ordered on 
active duty ; in the transfer of authorities, the 
charges against Manning were lost, and in con- 
sequence his court-martial trial did not take 
place. But his personal trials were by no means 



The Army of the yames. 31 

at an end. His tedious prison-life had barely 
commenced. 

ESCAPE AND RECAPTURE. —TORN BY 
BLOOD-HOUNDS. 

With some of his fellow-prisoners he made 
several attempts at escape : once he was actually 
outside the jail, but was soon retaken. From the 
jail he was removed to the Macon stockade. 
Digging out thence, he was making his way 
towards our lines at Atlanta, — travelling only 
nights, resting in the woods by day, — when he 
was caught by a rebel scout, and returned to his 
prison quarters. From Macon he was taken to 
Millen, to be guarded in the stockade at Camp 
Lawton. Returned to Macon, he was ordered 
thence agfain to Andersonville. Shrinkino: from 
the horrors of that well-remembered pen, he was 
willing to risk every thing in another attempt at 
escape on his way thither. Going by rail, he 
determined to jump from the moving train ; and, 
as several who had thus jumped with the cars in 
slow motion had been shot down by the guard, 
he made up his mind to leap while the train was 



32 



The Captured Scout of 



at highest speed. On a down grade, he made 
the fearful plunge, and, as though by a miracle, 
he rolled unharmed down the embankment and 
into the ditch below. Qiiick as thought he was 
lip and oft^ for the woods. How pure and free 
seemed the fresh air of heaven ! God speed and 
shield the flying boy ! At the next station, the 
guard of the train gave the alarm, and soon a 
pack of five blood-hounds, with their mounted 
brutal keepers, were on his track, and in full 
pursuit. Bravely but vainly Manning sought to 
retain the freeclom he had won at such fearful 
risk. PlunCTinof into the recesses of a dismal 
swamp, he had brief hope that he should evade 
his pursuers ; but soon the baying of the hounds 
was in his strained ears, and about him were the 
ringing echoes of the on-spurring guard. His 
hiding-place was speedily surrounded, and his 
hope of escape cut off'. Yet he clung to dear 
liberty to the last. Again and again came the 
blaspheming shouts of his pursuers, demanding 
his surrender, and threatening him with "no 
quarter" if he compelled them to push further 
through the entangling briers and slimy morasses. 



The Army of tJie yames. 33 

He waded out into the sluggish waters of the 
inner swamp depths, to turn if possible the trail 
of the keen-scented hounds ; but with undeviat- 
ing directness they bounded towards him through 
brake and fen : he heard their labored breathing ; 
then caught a glimpse of their flashing eyes and 
foaming jaws, as, with a vindictive howl at their 
long-delayed triumph, they leaped ferociously 
out of the thicket into the water where he stood, 
firm in despair. " Oh ! 'twas a horrid mo- 
ment," he said, " when they caught me and made 
a spring for my throat. I sank 'in the mire: a 
gurgling sound filled my ears — " One hound 
clutched him by the shoulder as he fell in the 
water : another sent his sharp fangs through the 
flesh of his side. As he rolled in the deadly 
struggle, the keepers came up and choked oft^the 
do2:s, although one of them was urg^ent to have 
him torn in pieces because of his temerity. 
Weak, bruised, bleeding, despondent, Manning 
was carried to the Andersonville stockade, there 
to have his only nursing at the hands of the 
keepers of that accursed den, amid its exposures, 
its privations, its gloom, and its loathsomeness. 

3 



34 



The Captured Scout of 



ANDERSONVILLE HORRORS. 

Oh, how wearily the hours dragged in Ander- 
sonville ! Shivering, unsheltered, in the cold 
nights of rain ; sweltering, all exposed, under 
the noonday's sun ; cramped in the seething 
mass of the close-packed stockade, where half- 
naked men strove with each other for the last 
garment from the body of their latest dead com- 
rade ; weighed down with the poison-laden air of 
the malarial swamp ; knowing no relief from the 
gnawings of hunger in the soul-straining pro- 
cesses of slow starvation ; needing Christian cour- 
age to hold back from the relief of the dead-line ; 
full of sad forebodings of evil to home loved 
ones who mourned him as dead, and from whom 
no comforting word could come ; and chafing, 
most of all, in his overwrought and high-strung 
nervous powers, under enforced inaction at a 
time when every patriot's strength should tell for 
God and Government, — Manning's life wasted 
surely away, and his system imbibed fairly that 
disease which at length destroyed his firm and 
vigorous constitution, and brought him so early 
in life's day to the house appointed to all living. 



The Army of the yames. 35 

IN THE REBEL RANKS. — LOYAL STILL. 

Finding himself still held as a suspected spy, 
although the special charges against him had 
been lost, and denied the treatment of an ordinary 
prisoner of war, Manning prayerfully deter 
mined on a course he would not have counselled 
for one captured in open battle. The special 
orders from his department commander clearly 
authorized such a proceeding in his case, and he 
sought to find a temporary place in the rebel 
ranks, that he might escape to the Union lines 
with the valuable information he had in various 
ways obtained. Circumstances providentially 
favored him, and he adroitly managed to pass 
out with a squad who had regularly enlisted ; 
and, without taking any oath of allegiance to the 
" Confederate " powers, he was counted and 
equipped as a soldier in that army, and hurried 
towards the rebel front. However any might 
question the propriety or policy of this move- 
ment on his part, it cannot be denied that in it 
he acted conscientiously, and verily felt he was 
doing God service. He was acting for his 



36 



The CapttLred Scout of 



government, to which he was loyal as ever, and 
was carrying out the very letter and spirit of. his 
specific instructions. " I gained all the informa- 
tion I could, from every thing that passed," he 
wrote, " and laid it up in my memory. When 
I saw a big bridge, I studied how I might blow 
it up ; when I passed a large city, I was plan- 
ning how I might set it on fire ; and when I saw 
a leading general, I was contriving some way 
how I might blow his brains out. I was in the 
enemv's countrv, — nothing: but enemies around 
me ; and the more harm I could do them, the 
greater service I should be doing my country." 
It was not long before the Union cavalry made 
a dash on the rebel lines in Manning's vicinity. 
At once he ran for the battle-line of the assail- 
ing force, facing its sharpest fire, while also fired 
at by his rebel comrades who divined the object 
of his move ; and he reached the Union ranks 
unharmed. 



The Ar?7iy of the Jarnes. 37 



A PRISONER AMONG FRIENDS. — GOOD 
NEWS FOR HOME. 

Once more under the old flag, Manning told 
his strange story to the commander before whom 
he was taken ; but it is not to be wondered at 
that it was discredited, in the absence of proof. 
He was deemed a rebel prisoner, and as such 
was sent to the military prison at Alton, Illinois. 
Sending forward his complaint to his regiment, 
he was, after a few weeks' delay, ordered released 
b}' direct command from the War Department. 
It was then — for he would not write to his dear 
ones while a prisoner at Alton — that he sent 
his first letter home. The simple message, — 

" St. Louis, Mo. March lo, 1S65. 
"My dear Loved Ones, — 

" I still live, and you shall hear from me soon. 

" Henry H. Manning." 

written on a sheet of "Christian Commission" 
paper, with the appropriate printed motto, 
" Let it hasten to those who wait for tidings," — 
came as a voice from the grave to those who had 
mourned him, and gave to them glad and grate- 



38 The Captured Scout of 

ful hearts ; for now their dead was alive again, 
and their lost was found. 

AGAIN WITH HIS REGIMENT. — MERITED 

PROMOTION. 

Subjected, on his way to his regiment, to those 
vexatious arrests and detentions to which an 
enlisted man absent from his command without 
a "descriptive list" was liable, in war time, 
Manning at length rejoined his comrades of the 
Twenty-fourth, at Richmond, Va., where the reg- 
iment was doing provost duty, about the middle of 
April, 1865. The ten months intervening since he 
left his command, not a dozen miles from where 
he now rejoined it, had been teeming ones to 
the gallant and war-worn battalion in its varied 
campaigning, as well as to himself within the 
enemy's lines. He missed many a comrade 
who had fallen in the fight while he suffered in 
the hands of the foe. But they were hearty 
greetings that passed between those who at last 
thus met in safety and dear-bought peace. 

The following regimental order shows some- 



The Ainny of the yames, 39 

thing of the estimate put on his services by his 
immediate commander : — 

HEADquARTERS 24th Mass. Vol. Inf. 
Richmond, Va., April 22, 1865. 

Special Order No. 34. 

Corporal H. \\. Manning, Co. G, is hereby pro- 
moted to be sergeant in the same company, as a special 
commendation for the services rendered by him. 

Captured within the lines of the enemy while on 
secret service, and arraigned for trial as a spy, Sergeant 
Manning passed through a series of dangerous ad- 
ventures, sufficient to shake the firmest resolution. 
Throughout his captivity he displayed a courage and 
constancy to duty which deserve a greater reward than 
his commanding officer has power to bestow. 

Bv order of 

Albert Ordway, 
Lieut.-Col. 24th Mass. Vol. Inf. Comd'g Regt. 
Benj. F. Stoddard, 

ist Lieut, and Adj. 

HOME AT LAST. 
Manning was too far reduced by his prison 
life to be of further use in the army ; moreover, 
active campaigning was at an end ; and he was 
honorably discharged, June 16, 1S65, after nearly 
four years of such service as few even of the 
Union soldiers in the late war were called to. 



40 The Captured Scout of 

Returning to his Massachusetts home, his first 
effort w-as to rebuild his health. A visit to the 
West refreshed him, and he hoped for ultimate 
recovery. Investing his army earnings for the 
benefit of his home loved ones, he looked about 
him for somethino^ to do. He had not forg-otten 
his promise to God in Macon jail : his only 
doubt was how he could best redeem it. 

TELLING HIS STORY. — FULFILLING HIS 

VOW. 

Visiting an army comrade in North Bridge- 
water, Manning met the Rev. S. H. Lee, now 
of Greenfield, who counselled him to attempt 
studying for the ministry ; and, that he might 
procure funds to start with, Mr. Lee suggested 
his preparing a lecture on his army service and 
prison adventures, to deliver as opportunity of- 
fered, until the proceeds of it should amount to one 
hundred dollars, when he could hopefully com- 
mence school-life, and thenceforward work his 
way along through a course of study. The lec- 
ture was prepared, and, under Mr. Lee's aus- 
pices, brought out at North Bridgewater. It 



The Ar»iy of the Jajucs. 41 

was repeated a score of times or so, during the 
winter of 1S65-6, with good success. It is much 
to be regretted that no copy of tliis manuscript 
was retained ; for Manning wrote with no little 
graphic power, and such a record of his eventful 
soldier-life would have proved of thrilling In- 
terest now. 

STUDENT-LIP^E AT ANDOVER. —LOVING 
SERVICE FOR JESUS. 

In the sjjring of 1S66, he was on his way to 
Phillips Academy, Andover, with the one hun- 
dred dollars in hand, — or rather with one 
hundred and one dollars ; and, as he had been 
advised to start with one hundred, he gave the 
odd dollar to a poor man on the road. At 
Andover, while an earnest student, he was 
an untirin"" Christian worker. He tauo:ht In a 
mission-school, took part in prayer-meetings, 
and conversed on the subject of personal reli- 
gion with many school-mates, winning thus 
friends to himself and souls to Jesus. His life 
really seemed — as he had promised it should 
be — wholly consecrate to Jesus. " Way down 



42 The Captured ScoiU of 

in the inmost recesses of my heart," he wrote, 
" the great all-absorbing ^^^''"pose and desire is to 
do the will of God as it is made known to me by 
his providence. ... I desire to be led by the 
hand of God. ... I wish to do away with 
every selfish thought, and live only for Jesus." 
Yet he worked from no mere sense of stern duty, 
in the slavish performance of a binding vow: 
love prompted his service, out of a willing heart. 
" How much real enjoyment it gives me to work 
for Jesus ! " he said. " All other pleasures fade 
away and are lost, by the side of it." And this 
enjoyment in work for Jesus was increased by 
the conviction that souls were benefited bv it. 
He loved to work for others, because Jesus com- 
manded it ; and he loved to work for Jesus, be- 
cause others were blessed by it. " You know," 
he said, "the words of our Saviour are, 'Inas- 
much as ye have done it unto one of the least of* 
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.' 
How soothing and encouraging these words are ! 
I don't see how any one can help doing all the 
good they can. ... I have an insatiable thirst 
after perishing souls, and hope and pray that 



The Ariny of the ya7nes. 43 

God will lead me to do good wherever I am. 
... I am thankful for the hope that, perhaps 
ere long, I can throw aside all other things, 
and enter with my whole heart upon the work 

of saving souls My heart pants to be 

wholly engaged in my Master's service." 

TOIL FOR BREAD. —UNFAILING TRUST. 

One hundred dollars will not go far towards a 
young man's thorough education, nowadays ; 
and Manning found himself before long pressed 
for means of support. Then he was driven to 
work hard for money, while toiling incessantly 
at study. He swept the school-rooms, and per- 
formed similar service at the academy, for fifteen 
cents an hour ; he went out in the early morn- 
ings to do mowing and other farm labor, until 
the hour of school-time ; and thus he kept along 
in everv thinsf but health and rest. He had no 
odd hours unimproved. Writing of his mission- 
scholars, in whom he was deeply interested, he 
said, " I generally spend two evenings a week 
with them, and two evenings at literary societies 
for improvement of the mind, and there are not 



44 Thi Captured Scout of 

often but three evenings left, and those are our 
prayer-meeting nights." 

Had Manning been in full health, he might 
have stood all this ; but disease, fastened on him 
in the prison stockade, never relaxed its hold ; 
and his strength failed steadily. Some of his 
friends advised him to abandon student-life and 
seek renev^^ed vigor "in active out-door occupa- 
tion ; but dthers, who w^ere nearest him, vs^ith 
unaccountable blindness and persistency, uni- 
formly urged his adherence to first-formed plans. 
Again and again his enfeebled frame gave way ; 
and as often his unwavering determination ena- 
bled him to rally for another effort. It was hard 
for him to relinquish his pur^^ose of activity in 
Christ's service. He was far from wilful in this 
struggle. " I desire to be led by the hand of 
God," he said ; " I am praying very earnestly, . . . 
asking God to tell me what to do, and I know 
he will not tell me wrong. . . . Feeling that I am 
performing my mission here on earth, I take 
every step gladly ; " but he wanted to take some 
step, not to stand still : it was easier for him to 
do any thing for Christ than to do nothing. " I 



The Army of the ya??zes. 45 

will endeavor," he wrote, " to keep within 
bounds, and not try to strain my rope when I 
find I have arrived at the end of it ;" but he was 
loath to believe there was any end to his rope. 
" God willing, I shall be able to do something 
by and by," he said, " and what shall it be?" 
He had the feeling that God, having accepted his 
consecration vow in prison, would somehow find 
work for him to do for Jesus, in accordance with 
its terms. Xo lesson concerning God's " kingly 
state" seemed so hard for him to learn as that — 

" Thej also serve who only stand and wait." 

And, doubtless, his energy, coupled with his 
faith, prolonged his useful life. In his condition, 
and with his temperament, he would have fallen 
sooner but for his indomitable will, his deter- 
mination not yet to yield to the closing pressure 
of disease, and his conviction that God would 
still sustain him in his work ; that so long as 
he did what he could and should, his Father 
would supply all lack. It is, unquestionably, 
every man's duty to consider his health, even in 
the prosecution of a religious enterprise, and no 



46 The Captured Scout of 

desire for high and holy attainment will justify 
reckless over-effort of body or mind. But not 
all are to be judged by the same standard of 
prudence in amount or kinds of effort or toil. 
What is rest for one man would prove tortin^e 
to another. Not a few depend for very life upon 
tireless activity ; like the traveller on the Alps, 
if in their exhaustion they sit down at the ap- 
proach of night, they chill and sleep and die. 
They must keep moving or perish. So in the 
case of Henry Manning : while his example of 
unintermitted nervous endeavor may not be com- 
mended to ordinary men for imitation, it may be 
admired and approved in him, doomed as he 
was to an early death from the hour he entered 
the Petersburg dungeon, and kept alive through 
his resolute activity, his over-estimate of remain- 
ing strength, and his ever sanguine anticipations 
of returning health. 

And with all his weakness of body, his faith 
never faltered. " If God wants me to stay 
at school," he said while at Andover, '• I have 
no fear but that he will find a way for me to get 
along thei'e." Then he told of his rising one 



The Arjny of the yames. 47 

• 

morning without a cent of money in the world, 
and going earnestly to God in prayer for help, 
and of his finding, but a few minutes later, 
between the pages of the book he took up to 
study, fifteen dollars (which God had put it into 
the heart of some friend to give to him in that 
delicate way) ; and he added, in affirmation of 
his undoubting faith, " And God will do so again 
if it is best." 

FAILING HEALTH.— A GRATEB^UL HEART. 

It was in the spring of 1S67, that Manning 
finally left his studies. He struggled manfully 
with disease, but it gained on him steadily. He 
visited among friends, to try change of air and 
scene, and was under various medical treatment, 
but all to little purpose. His prison privations 
were working out in his shattered constitution 
their inevitable result. For all attention shown 
or aid rendered him, he*was ever grateful, and 
he seemed to feel that none had better friends 
than he. Of a pleasant home where he had 
passed a brief time, he wrote, " It's a second 
paradise : isn't it? If Christ was on earth now, 



t tt 



48 Xhe Captui'ed Scout of 

I do believe that he would make his home there 

— a part of the time at least: don't you?" 

■ Those who were privileged to assist him from 
time to time may surely feel, as he felt, that their 
gifts were unto the Lord. " I want assistance," 
he wrote on this point, once, " only that I may 
be useful ; and, strictly speaking, I want to be 
useful only for Jesus ! " To God he gave glory 
for whatever help came to him from any direc- 
tion. Returning thanks for a generous donation 

— which proved most timely — from one who 
sent it as " a cup of cold water to a disciple," 
he said, feelingly, " How vety strange and 
mysterious are the Lord's dealings with this 
poor weak child of his ! Every earthly prop is 
struck from under me, and I am just sinking in 
utter hopeless despair, when the Lord not only 
succors and relieves me, but catches me right 
up in his arms, and gives me such blessings as 
I had no thought of asking for." 

IN HOSPITAL. —GENTLE MINISTRY THERE. 

In his health-seeking. Manning visited Boston 
to secure the valued counsel of Dr. S. A. Green, 



A 



The Army of the yames. 49 

his former regimental surgeon, who had on many 
occasions shown special interest in him, and ex- 
pressed a readiness to aid him to the utmost. 
Soon there came a letter from him, dated in the 
Massachusetts General Hospital, saying, " My 
health has been growing frailer of late, and yes- 
terday I came to this city, hoping to see Dr. 
Green, and perhaps get into some hospital ; but 
on arriving here I found that Dr. G. was in 
Europe ! . . . So, with an earnest prayer on my 
lips, I turned back, and, after much difficult}^, 
found my way to this place, — found the head of 
the institution, and told my story — simple and 
short! Out of health, out of money, and disap- 
pointed about meeting friends. 

" Well, I was told that this was just the place for 
folks in such a condition, and I was hustled into 
a warm bath, and into Ward 23, among a set of 
ghastly, half-in-the-grave looking fellows, some of 
whom lay, or sat up, in bed, like marble posts ; 
some were cracking vulgar jokes, and one or two 
of the most deathly-looking ones were cursing and 
grumbling because they could not be allowed a 
pint of whiskey a day. . . . Perhaps I am wrong, 

4 



5o The Captured Scout of 

but I can't help feeling grieved, mortified, and 
sad to come here so like a beggar ! but what 
could I do ? Here I've been on expense, more or 
less, ever since I left school, and no vsray of getting 
money. I have parted with my watch, and expect 
to receive ten or fifteen dollars for that shortly ; so 
I shall get on nicely, only it galls me to have to be 
in this situation here ! but I hope I shall not be 
here long. . . . And if I can get my health again, 
I shall know how to prize it ; and shall be as 
thankful to God as I was when released from 
prison." 

He was as unselfish in hospital as elsewhere. 
Having a little money left with him by friends, 
for the purchase of such comforts as he might 
crave, he at once set about ministering to the 
needs of those about him in the difierent wards, 
finding it ever " more blessed to give than to re- 



ceive." 



" Perhaps it may be gratifying to you," he 
wrote, in returning thanks for kindness shown 
to him by a slight gift, " to know of some of the 
effects of that kindness ; of some of the good it 
has brought about, and some of the hearts it has 



The Army of the jfanies. 51 

cheered. That poor, deformed, ghastly-looking 
boy that I pointed out to you while we were 
conversing together in the hospital, wanted many 
things that were not furnished him. I expended 
a little of that money that you left with me upon 
him, . . . and it would send a thrill of pleasure 
through and through you to have noted the eflect. 
He was so unused to kindness tliat it quite over- 
came him. Poor, dear fellow ! He is not long 
for this world. May the Lord watch over him, 
and prepare him for the future ! 

" And then there was a poor Irish girl in one of 
the wards, a Catholic, but one of the most de- 
voted Christian girls I ever met. . . . Her home 
is in Ireland ; but while visiting in this country, 
she met with a fearful accident, and was sent 
to the hospital for treatment. When I met her 
she was recovering, but was feeling somewhat 
disheartened because her friends were so far 
away ; and she was often slighted on account of 
her being an ' Irish Catliolic' ... I was en- 
abled to cheer her up a great deal, and to do one 
or two little substantial acts of kindness for her, 
which went directly to her heart, and seemed to 



52 The Captured Scout of 

do her so much good that I thanked God, invol- 
untarily, for the opportunity of cheering her, and 
beinc^ of service to her. 

" But I was enabled to render the most assist- 
ance to an American lady, — a noble-hearted 
woman and a true Christian. Her life has 
been one of adventure and suffering, and one 
cannot listen to the recital of her touching story 
without feeling deeply interested in her. She 
has been in tlie hospital a long time, and is 
at present very weak and frail ; and there is a 
great deal of doubt about her ever being any 
better. I bought little things for her that I knew 
did her good ; and when I came away I left a 
very little money with her, in order that she 
might be able to procure any little thing that 
she felt as if she couldn't do without, even if 
the hospital did not furnish it. And so I had 
the pleasure of leaving her quite light-hearted 
and hopeful, believing more firmly than ever that 
the Lord would care for her, and never, never 
forsake her." 

It was indeed a privilege to give assistance in 
any way to one so grateful as was Manning, for 



The Army of the yames. 53 

all that he received of blessing, and so ready to 
make others happy by ministering discreetly, and 
in a loving, Christ-like spirit, to the needy and 
heavy-burdened about him. 

HOPE AGAINST HOPE. — THE PRIVILEGE OF 
CHRISTIAN WORK. 

From the hospital to his home, and again 
among friends who felt that his presence with 
them was in itself a blessing. Manning still 
sought health, while growing gradually weaker 
and less able to exert himself in bodv or mind. 
He would not see the dark side of his case, but 
still confidently hoped for recovery. " I don't feel 
natural yet, by any means," he wrote from Fisk- 
dale, where he w^as with good friends on a farm, 
in October, 1867, " nor free from mental weak- 
ness, but I'm stronger phjsically" than I have 
been since I left Andover, certain. You see we 
are a mile and a half from neighbors, and my 
friends are very quiet indeed, so I talk hardly 
any ; and when I get to work husking corn, 
digging potatoes, and the like, I often even for- 
get to think^ and I gain by it rapidly ; but 



54 The Captured Scout of 

when I come down to writing letters, It puts me 
back." 

Manning's days of struggle with disease were 
not wholly profitless to others. He was the 
means of not a little good, in his moving from 
point to point in the last year of his toilsome 
life. At South Danvers, Bridgewater, Fiskdale, 
Winchester, Beverl}^, Hartford, and elsewhere, 
he raised his voice or used his warm and loving 
heart for precious souls, in ways that will never 
be forgotten. His crown in heaven will be bright 
with stars won in those months of vain search 
for health. And this work was ever a joy to 
him, and he thanked God for his part in it. 

While in the hospital at Boston, he told in sadr 
ness of his disappointments in efforts at Christian 
activity, — of his going to a place in Vermont 
where was such need of religious endeavor that^ 
" even he could do something for Jesus," and of 
his being taken ill on the very day of his arrival 
there, and thus prevented raising his voice for the 
Master. " And so it has often been," he added, 
regretfully. "I don't know whether I've learned 
the right lesson from all this ; but this is what it 



The Army of the James. ^^ 

seems to me God is teaching me by these disap- 
pointments : It is a blessed privilege to ^York 
for Jesus. Jesus didn't need me in Vermont. 
He has never needed me anywhere ; but he has 
let me work for him sometimes. Oh, if I ever 
get well enough to work for him again, won't I 
be thankful for it!" Would to God that all 
Christians had learned this lesson as well ! 

ONLY WAITING. — REST AT LAST. 

At length the prolonged struggle drew towards 
its close. Early in May last, Manning — told by 
the physicians in a water-cure establishment, 
where he had been spending some months, that 
nothing more could be done for him with hope 
— turned his steps for the last time to his War- 
wick home. He still had hope of recovery, for 
he had passed so many perils safely that he could 
hardly realize there was any death for him ; but 
he was now more resigned to inaction, in the 
same trustful love of Jesus and his cause. " I 
know that my Saviour will take care of me," he 
wrote: "I don't think it, I knozv it! I haven't 
the slightest doubt of it. He never manifested 



• > « 



^6 The Captured Scout of 

himself to me more wonderfully than he has of 
late ; never satisfied the cravings of my heart 
more, or filled my soul more full ! And I be- 
lieve I never had so much love for him, or loved 
to speak of him to others, so vs^ell, as at the pres- 
ent time ! " But he added, " It is not my busi- 
ness to think whether I am to live or die, but, 
rather, how I can best serve Christ. I want to 
do any thing, and be any thing, and suffer any 
thing that he wants me to." So, as he lay down 
on his home-bed to die, he had learned his last 
lesson, — he could wait as well as work. 

" He was not eager, bold, 

Nor strong, — all that was past; 
He was ready not to do, 
At last, at last." 

His faith grew firmer as his flesh failed, and 
the less he could himself do, the more he was 
ready to trust God to do for him. On one occa- 
sion, when it seemed as if his hour of death had 
come, his sisters who were nearest were all sum- 
moned to his bedside, and just then two other 
sisters came in unexpectedly, — one from Boston, 
the other from Wisconsin, — while a friend whom 






f 



The Army of the yames. 57 

he had particularly desh'ed to see again, also 
visited him. For the first time in several years 
the family were all together at home. This 
moved Manning to j^rofoundest gratitude to God, 
and he repeatedly referred to it in this spirit, tell- 
ing over the story of recent blessings secured to 
himself and his loved ones, as though he had 
just pride in the power and goodness of his 
heavenly Father, who had done all this for his 
comfort. Again, when he was pressed for means 
to supply his daily necessities, a sister came to 
him one morning to say that a letter had been re- 
ceived covering a gift of thirty dollars for his use. 
A pleasant smile came over his face as he re- 
sponded, " I prayed for money last night. It 
was the first time I had asked for that in a good 
while." 

There were long and weary weeks for him of 
final trial in racking pain — the whole inner sys- 
tem destroyed by the foul air of swamp and dun- 
geon, and the scant or vile food of stockade and 
jail, while the still young and naturally vigorous 
outer man refused to be yet wholl}^ crushed. 
There were dreams of prison-life, hunger and 



5^ The Captured Scout of 

thirst ever unsatisfied ; and seasons of agony in 
struggle for breath, as with slow, wasting flesh, 
and cold, clammy brow, the patient sufferer 
whispered with livid lips, in unfailing trust, "I 
want nothing; I wish for nothing; I hope for 
nothing : I only wait," until death brought relief 
and rest on the evening of Friday, Sept. 4, 1S68. 
Two days later, his remains were borne out by 
loving hands from the church where, seven years 
before, that very month, he had stood up to wit- 
ness for Jesus before going out to face death at 
the call of God, and tenderly laid away under 
the green turf of the neighboring hill-side ceme- 
tery, close by the tasteful granite shaft which 
stands " In Memory of Warwick's Soldiers who 
fell in the War of the Great Rebellion." 

CLAIMS OF THE DEAD ON THE LIVING'. 

And thus the earthly warfare of another brave 
soldier is concluded. His was a noble work, — a 
work for others; for his fellows, his country, his 
God. "Greater love hath no man than this, 
that a man lay down his life for his friends." 
Henry Manning " hath done what he could " for 



The Army of the James. 59 

the interests dear to the hearts of the Union sol- 
diers. It is for those who survive him to hold 
sacred, and to guard jealously the principles and 
privileges — the supremacy of the Federal Gov- 
ernment ; the integrity of the national Union ; 
the just liberties of the people of the Republic ; 
the protection in their every right of all its citi- 
zens ; the execution of the laws, and the inviola- 
bility of the national faith — for which he and so 
many other soldiers battled, endured, and prayed, 
and gave or risked their lives. 

And the foith of Henry Manning should be 
deemed yet more admirable and holy than his 
work. His work was heroic : his faith w^as 
sublime ! It was because of his faith in that 
Saviour who died for him, and was an ever-pres- 
ent help in all his needs, that he went out as a 
soldier, and endured unto the end so bravely. 
" He fought a good fight" because he " kept the 
faith." " Through faith " he " escaped the edge 
of the sword ; out of weakness was made strong, 
waxed valiant in fight,'* " had trial . . . of bonds 
and imprisonment, . . . being destitute, afflicted, 
tormented," and out of all " obtained a good re- 



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